


woodworking

by Dresupi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Couch Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Sitting, One Shot, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Timeline What Timeline, Whipped!Brock Rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 00:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17756048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Who knew Darcy had a carpenter kink?





	woodworking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ibelieveinturtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/pseuds/SerialObsessor) in the [Conversation_Heart_Prompts_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Conversation_Heart_Prompts_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Hi hun! FYI, I'll put all my requests in for explicit but they don't have to be - just wherever your muse wants to go is fine ❤❤
> 
> **_Conversation Heart Prompts 2019_ **

Darcy should have known by how long it took him to respond after he read her text.

_ -“Let’s get busy!” _

She’d thought about her wording very carefully. If she typed out specifically that she was ready for him to get his ass out of her bed and come build this shelf, she might sound a little naggy. So she’d opted for the unfamiliar colloquialism that she was fairly certain Brock had never heard her utter in the entire time he’d been with her.

Which wasn’t for very long. Three months. Not that long.

So she  _ thought _ she was safe, tapping her fingers on all the boards she’d picked up from Home Depot and eyeing the cheap bottle of wine she’d gotten to stain the shelf after he was finished. 

It was like ten in the morning. Too early for wine, no matter how cheap, plus she was pretty sure she needed the whole thing to stain the shelf.

Her phone buzzed with his reply.

_ -“Ready when you are, babe. You want pants on or off?” _

“For crying out loud,” she sighed. He must have forgotten his promise. His first day off equaled a new bookshelf for Darcy because he’d sneered at her decision to just go to IKEA.  _ ‘Sneer _ ’ was probably too heavy of a word for what had actually happened.

She’d expressed her desire for an IKEA bookshelf. He’d rolled his eyes and said he could make a better one.  She’d told him to be her guest. He’d assured her he would, on his first day off.

Now, here it was, his first day off, and he was trying to sext her from the other room.

She reached up to rap sharply on the wall beside her with her knuckles. It was the only one shared between the bedroom and the living room.

“Get out here, Sleeping Beauty, I’ve got the wood already!” she called, hoping that would put some spring in his step and out of his shorts.

He sauntered out to grab a cup of coffee about five minutes later looking sufficiently sleepy with his unshaven face and messy hair. He was wearing a white t-shirt that already had paint stains on it, along with a pair of jeans with more rips than denim.

Darcy didn’t care, not so long as he kept his promise and she wouldn’t have to deal with this stack of wood in the precise cuts that Brock had asked for.

“Good morning sunshine,” she said brightly.

He grunted and took a sip from her hot pink Florida coffee cup. “Thought you meant something different with that text.”

“I figured,” she said with a smirk. “Figured you’d forget your promise.”

He frowned over at her. “I didn’t forget a damn thing, sweetheart. I was just asleep until about ten minutes ago. Cut me some slack.”

“Nice to know you automatically think every text from me is a sex thing.”

“Maybe because before now, every text from you  _ has _ been a sex thing.”

Damn. He had her there.

“First time for everything,” she countered.

A gruff hum was all she got in response before he finished his coffee.

“You want food? I have eggs,” she started.

“Nah. I won’t be hungry till lunch. You can make me a sandwich then if you want…” he said with a grin.

“I didn’t say a word about  _ making _ your food, you neanderthal.”

“I’m making you a shelf,” he argued.

“Yeah, and it ain’t made yet,” she spat, before turning and walking back to the pile of wood. “Just because you’re making me a shelf doesn’t mean I’m gonna turn into the ‘little woman’ and make you a damn sandwich!” She sighed heavily, pointing to the pile of wood. The wood’s here. I’ll stay outta your hair.”

She stormed back to her bedroom before he could sweet talk her back.

She’d probably overreacted, but hell if he didn’t know exactly which buttons to push.

Darcy flopped down on the bed and exhaled into a pillow, figuring he was probably going to fuck off and leave her with a pile of wood and this stupid knot of annoyance in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

The sound of a hammer and nails caught her attention and she groggily sat up and frowned in the direction of her bedroom door.

What the hell was that?

Judging by the sun streaming in through her window, and the clock on her nightstand, it was just after noon. So she’d fallen asleep and taken an angry nap.

And she was groggy.

_ And _ someone was hammering something out in the living room. 

She slid her legs over to the side and rose out of bed, walking on wobbly legs to the door and out into the hallway.

It smelled like fresh wood and Brock’s cologne.

He was humming to himself. To a song on his iPhone, judging by the earpods in his ears. And he was hoisting the shelf upright, the veins and cords in his arms standing out as he pushed it back against the wall and stood back to admire his handiwork.

And what handy work it was, too. Five shelves, all perfectly measured and balanced, if the way the finished structure was standing firm was any indication.

Holy shit. They’d had a fight and he’d still built it.

He rested back, shifting his weight and crossing both arms as he admired the shelf.

Darcy moved closer, reaching out to brush her fingers over his bulging forearm. 

Goddamn, was he this sexy this morning?

It had to be the fact that he’d just built something, wasn’t it? This was a primal feeling, leftover from her foremothers, who got turned on watching their men raise barns or something, right?

This wasn’t her. This was her blood. And who was she to argue with that? It was her lifeforce, after all.

He jolted at her touch, but his face softened as he reached up to take out his earpods, jamming both into his pocket and nodding at the shelf. “Pretty sturdy craftsmanship, huh?”

Darcy was halfway through a nod when she pulled him down closer, finding his lips and slipping her tongue between them.

“Whoa…” he exclaimed. “What was that for?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Thought you looked hot in your… handyman get up.”

He snorted. “In my neanderthal getup, you mean?”

She pursed her lips. “Any chance we can talk about that later?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Just know that I wasn’t asking for a sandwich in the way you thought I was. I was just saying… because I was gonna build this. I was trying to be cute. Tit for tat. You know I don’t expect you to feed me, Darcy. I can get my own.”

His arm slipped around her waist, hauling her closer so she got a noseful of his sweaty t-shirt. 

It was probably gross, but she inhaled. He smelled like sawdust and Old Spice. Fuck, he smelled good. She didn’t care about the sandwich.

She didn’t care about the mini-spat they’d had either. The miscommunication.

All she cared about was how scratchy his beard was and how much she wanted to feel it on her thighs.

She pushed him back to the couch until he backed over the arm, falling back with a smooth smile. “Guess you can get your own too, huh?”

Darcy smirked, crawling over his body and reaching for the waistband of her shorts. “Depends on whether you’re willing to give it to me or not.”

“Sugar, you know I’ll give you anything. I built you a damn shelf.”

“That means you’re probably tired, huh?”

“My arms are…” he said, winking.

Darcy pushed her shorts and panties down over her hips and groaned when he wrapped both of those strong arms around her thighs, helping her center over his face.

“They don’t seem that tired…” she gasped, his tongue flicking over the heated skin of her inner thigh.

“Second wind,” he murmured, tugging her down and over his lips.

His tongue swiped through her folds, finding her clit and fluttering softly over the tiny bud. He nuzzled closer, his stubble raking over her thighs and making her moan. He was rough like sandpaper, and his tongue was so, so smooth.

She watched his arms as he held her down over his face, his head moving ever so slightly as he teased her clit, his dark eyes closed while her thighs clenched around his head.

Darcy could feel his groan, feel it as it reverberated through her entire body. 

He brought her so close to the damn edge. And so quickly too, her pleasure cascading over and taking her with it.

And then he held her even closer, his arms tightening to keep her from getting away.

As if she’d ever try.

He sucked the tiny nub between his lips, pulling softly on it while her hands crept up to cup her breasts under her shirt.

She found her nipples, stiff and ready and still in her bra. She pinched them softly in time with the soft pulling from Brock’s lips. 

Her second orgasm didn’t last as long as the first and Brock released her afterward, his mouth shining with her as he fumbled with his belt and his jeans.

She scrambled to hold onto the back of the couch as he stood and moved in behind her, placing one knee on the sofa cushion as he pushed his thick cock inside her.

He groaned as he bottomed out, the sound of her juices combined with his saliva was almost too loud, squelching as his hips pressed into hers. 

The springs of the sofa squeaked with every thrust until he reached for both her hands, his head resting on hers as his whole body went taut.

“Fuck…” he groaned, shaking a little as he slid from her body. “Fuck, Darcy.”

She licked her dry lips and turned around to kiss his lips. “Thanks for the bookshelf.”

“I’ll make you another one tomorrow if I’m gonna get laid like that every time,” he murmured.

“Don’t need another shelf, but I’ll see what I can find for you to do…”

His chuckle was soft as he collapsed on the sofa with her.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo! Last one, I'm done! Happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
